


Untitled

by ticktickboom



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-06
Updated: 2011-08-06
Packaged: 2017-10-22 07:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/235602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ticktickboom/pseuds/ticktickboom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was written for a prompt on anon_lovefest over on LJ: '<i>based on the SING video; what frank is thinking about, starting from when gerard dies and ending when he's shot.</i>'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled

Although the room is dark, there’s light everywhere, it’s zinging past his face in hot waves, singeing his hair if it gets close enough. He’s got a rip in his jacket sleeve from where he didn’t move fast enough. He doesn’t know where the fuck he’s supposed to be looking. Everywhere he looks there’s a Drac, a ray gun being pointed at him.

He ghosts a couple of Dracs that simultaneously move towards him and as one falls, his eyes land on Gerard backed up against a wall by Korse, just across the room.

“Gerard,” he tries to yell, but it gets stuck, he can’t even think, let alone speak. He’s vaguely aware of Mikeys attempt to run towards him, but it’s all too late, in what was probably less than a millisecond (but somehow still felt like hours, days even) Korse flexed his finger on the trigger. A blast travelled up and out of the gun and Frank felt himself gasp as Gerard went limp against the wall, sliding down it when Korse stepped away.

Frank suddenly becomes aware of his surroundings and starts shooting a little mindlessly, but his attention just keeps wondering to Gerard, slumped against the wall, head hanging limply. He chokes down a sob. He can’t break down here, not now. This is completely unreal. They’d entered the building nervously, of course they had, but Gerard had always been optimistic. He had refused to say any kind of goodbye to Frank, so confident that nothing could go wrong.

In his devastation, Frank wants to kill the motherfucker all over again. That thought makes a sob leave his mouth that he’s not even aware of until the sound hits his own ears.

Mikey was hysterical now, and Frank tried to reach out and stop him. He gets a couple of good shots at Korse’s ankles, but Korse was not shoddy with a ray gun and in his blind retaliation, he managed to shoot Mikey square in the chest.

This time Frank did cry out. He watched Mikey double over and collapse onto his side. Frank couldn’t hear anything over the blood rushing in his ears. He just wanted to drop to the floor next to Mikey, next to both of them and cradle them both in his arms, willing them to just wake up, open their eyes, move, fucking _anything_.

This was too much. They needed to make sure the girl got out safe, she never asked for any of this.

“Jet Star,” he called, over the whizz and blur of the ray guns. Ray appeared at his side, a hand curling around his elbow, the girls hand in his grasp.

“Gerard and Mikey,” he said breathlessly.

“I know,” Frank replied, desperately ushering them to the door, shooting blindly over his shoulder. Ray pushed the door open and the girl followed him out. Frank gave her a small push as he stopped. He didn’t realise how fast he’d been running until his feet skidded on the linoleum. Once he’d regained his balance, he stepped back and pulled the door closed. It’d only take one of them to get her somewhere safe.

“Frank!” the girl cried, trying to run back to the door.

“Go!” Frank called through the glass, holding the door closed as she tried to run towards it. Ray, as pained as he looked, understood his intentions, and grabbed the girls hand, pulling her away.

Frank watched them for a split second before turning his back on the glass door, raising his gun high, staring down it at the Dracs staring back at him. Without much of a plan, he started shooting. Anything that moved, that came closer to him; that raised a gun at him.

He took a daring step forward, and was rewarded with a zap to the hand. He made an angry sound, somewhere in the back of his throat, trying to keep it on the gun, to steady the shooting, but it just fell limply by his side. “Motherfucker,” he cursed through clenched teeth.

His hand was unsteady on the gun; his mind was bleary from the pain in his hand. He couldn’t get out of this, there was no way.

As if answering his thoughts, a blast managed to completely avoid his gun and his arm and catching him in the neck, a second taking the advantage of his flailing arm and catching him in the chest.

Frank wasn’t aware of anything after that.


End file.
